


Let's Start a Riot

by gutturalmess



Series: What If... [1]
Category: CodotVerse, DC - Fandom, DCU, Rogues Podcast
Genre: A Deserved Amount of Violence, CodotVerse DCAU - Freeform, Edward living up to the title of Rogue, Gen, Intent to Sexually Assault without Success, One Rogue Leads Another (Gotham Rogues tag)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutturalmess/pseuds/gutturalmess
Summary: Edward stared at them, then slowly lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug. The gag hid his mouth, but the way his eyes turned up at the corners, intent clearly mocking, told that he was smiling behind it.
Series: What If... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680877
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Let's Start a Riot

**Author's Note:**

> When it comes to one’s life or chastity being in peril, you will find no fainting violet in the CodotVerse Edward Nygma: other people do his dirty work because he dislikes sullying his hands, and nothing more.

Edward strolled down the gangway of Gen Pop, shining black shoes clicking hard on the metal, to a chorus of catcalls and wolf whistling from the imprisoned inmates; he ignored them. His gaze remained on his clipboard, pen rapping against the wood. 

“Bring that fine ass over here, pretty boy.” 

Without reacting, he continued his stride. 

“Hey. Riddle Man. I got a riddle here ya can solve.” 

Edward turned in the direction of the voice, dragging his gaze up and down their form from gritted stubbled jaw to manacled foot; his own voice came out clear for all to hear. 

“I’d prefer something harder.” 

Whoops and hollers met that rejoinder; Edward tilted his head and walked away. Gripping the bars of his cell, his admirer drew himself up closer with a grim smile. 

“Come back here, bitch.” 

“I come for no one,” Edward called over his shoulder. “But lucky you, you get to watch me leave.” 

“I’ll get ya,” he muttered, licking his lips. “I’ll get ya.”

Some time later Edward was ensconced in the director’s office delivering his verdict. Leaning across the desk to clasp his hands together, Director Richards gave him an inquisitive look. 

“How’s the inspection going, Mr. Nygma?” 

“About as well as I expected,” he replied. 

“Do you think that the Mayor will be satisfied with our progress?” 

“I imagine so -” he turned in his chair, frowning. “What on Earth is that ruckus?” 

Before Richards could respond, a cacophony of crashing furniture, breaking glass, and running feet moved down the hall and soon made it to the door, which promptly opened; four inmates stood on the other side, grinning with all the unsavoury delight of a cheap victory. Both Edward and Director Richards stood up to receive them, exchanging wary glances. 

“A riot, is it?” Richards asked, remaining calm. “What a shame. And you were so close to parole, Trevor.” 

“Just a little fun, boss,” Trevor replied, grinning. “Can’t hang us for that - how about ya assume the position, boys.” 

Richards looked to Edward for a cue; with an inward sigh, Edward clasped his hands together and held out his wrists which were promptly bound with a zip tie, and his mouth gagged with a torn cloth. After Richards followed suit and received the same treatment, two of the four dragged him off down the hall; Edward sat back down and watched them go without a flicker. 

The remaining two inmates looked at Edward with considerable interest. 

“What are we gonna do with Mr. Mayor’s little pet?” 

“I reckon we should throw him to the dogs, Bobby. Let them have him.” 

Edward stared at them, then slowly lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug. The gag hid his mouth, but the way his eyes turned up at the corners, intent clearly mocking, told that he was smiling behind it. 

“He’s supposed to be crazy. Maybe he’d like it.”

“Leave him with me, then. I’ll take good care of the princess.” 

Still staring at them, Edward made no reply. 

“Had your eye on him from the start, haven’t ya?” 

“Damn right. Now fuck off.”

Edward watched Bobby leave, sitting very still as Trevor closed the door and locked it. 

“Just you and me, now. No fancy machines to help ya, no hot dames in lycra, neither.” 

Bending over to look Edward in the face, he smiled. 

“Weird, ya being so quiet. Usually no one can shut ya up.” 

Trevor stared into Edward’s eyes: they were cold and flat. 

“Lemme get that gag off, since ya gonna need that pretty mouth anyway… ” he snickered. “No biting, now - or I’ll knock ya teeth out.” 

Once the gag was removed, messing up his hair in the process, Edward remained placid and watchful as Trevor clumsily stroked his cheek. 

“One question, Mr. Riddler.” 

He exhaled a small, resigned sigh out of his nose. 

“Everyone’s always got a question.” 

“Why ya wearing a black suit and not green?”

“Boss’ orders,” Edward said with a grim smile. “The Mayor doesn’t want any gimmicks in the office. No green for me, no duality for Mr. Dent.” 

“Does that bug ya?” 

“Not at all. Black is very becoming on a man with my colouring.” 

“Becoming, huh?” Trevor grinned. “Lemme tell ya what I’m gonna be coming on. Ya wanted something harder? Look what I’ve got here for ya-” 

Before he was able to straighten up, Edward viciously struck Trevor’s head with his own, dazing him and sending him tumbling backwards; in one fluid movement Edward stood up and snapped the zip tie over one knee. 

“Fucking amateurs and their monologuing,” he hissed, shoving Trevor down onto a chair and tearing a curtain off the window, using it as a binding to secure his prisoner much more securely than he had been.

In his concussed haze, Trevor absently noticed that there was a smear of blood running down Edward’s cheek; his face was contorted with affronted rage as he pushed the chair right up against the wall. As he pulled his switchblade out of his pocket and flicked it open, he started to laugh. 

“Did you really think,” he breathed, “that this was the first time someone tried to _fuck me?_ ” 

Edward stuck the knife into Trevor’s shoulder, who gasped and then tried to laugh. 

“Ya gonna get ya ass tossed right back in the looney bin.” 

“Oh, you think so?” Edward brought his face close and smiled horribly. “That gash looks like a wild stab of self-defense, to me. Not the work of a professional criminal at all.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

“You think there’s not enough evidence? I agree.” 

Edward narrowed his eyes, still smiling; he lifted his perfectly steady hand. 

“See that? See how petrified you make me, big fella?” Then, he made his hand shake as he widened his eyes. “Ooh, don’t hurt me, mister,” he whimpered sarcastically, then snarled. “How dare you fucking touch me.” 

Edward took another swipe with the knife, scoring Trevor’s chest through his scrubs just deep enough to break the skin. 

“Hell -” he gasped, curling up with pain. “How the fuck are ya not in here?” 

“Rather open secret if you actually stopped to think about it,” Edward mused, making strategically placed superficial cuts for signs of a struggle. “My attorney has my name on her façade, you know. Which she should, because after all…” he grinned, waving the knife in front of his eyes. “I paid for the damn thing.” 

“Why are you telling me this? You gonna kill me?” 

“Nah. I just doubt you’ll remember much of it.” 

Before Trevor could reply, Edward took hold of his hair and shoved his head back against the wall, knocking him out. 

“And besides,” he murmured, standing up straight and cracking his neck, “who the hell would believe _you?_ ” 

Pinching two fingers together, Edward drew a handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to clean the blood off his gloves and knife; catching sight of his face in the glass of the door, he winced and dabbed his face clean, then combed his fingers through his hair. As a means to pacify himself, he exhaled and looked at the unconscious Trevor. 

“Let’s have a little fun and throw your fate in the lap of the gods,” he smiled, looking around for an aid as he pocketed his knife, then spotted it. “Ahahaha. Thank you, Director Richards, for your diligence against germs.”

Edward took hold of the nearby bottle of hand sanitiser and squirted some over his outstretched handkerchief; flicking open his Zippo, he set the cloth alight and dropped it in the trash can. The contents, mostly paper, soon caught fire and licked at the sides of the can. Turning to his bound assailant, Edward stepped forward and ran a gloved finger down his jaw. 

“ _Dulce periculum,_ chump.” 

Chuckling to himself, he kicked the trash can over to spill upon the carpet, then opened the door to see what side was winning.


End file.
